Isabelle’s POV

The sound of shattering glass ripped through the house like a gunshot.

“Nathan!” My heart seized, and without thinking, I bolted toward the kitchen.

Damion was right behind me, his voice sharp. “Stay behind me, Isabelle!”

I didn’t listen. All I could think about was my son—my baby.

The kitchen window was broken, shards of glass glittering across the floor, but it was the open back door that made my blood run cold. The wind howled through it, carrying the sound ...